


heavy water / i'd rather be sleeping

by orphan_account



Series: dead in the water [1]
Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Agender Character, Drowning, Dying together, Other, Youkai Relapse, i'm the only author in this ship tag, that doesn't make any sense but fuck it, uhhh?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murasa relapses, and returns to the ocean. Ichirin follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heavy water / i'd rather be sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from song of the same name by Grouper  
> i don't know what i'm doing but there are five posts in this ship tag now and all of them are mine

It's summer when you first start coughing again.

In the main temple, on the tatami mats, you're inking over the sutras with an unpracticed hand when you start to cough. It's a restless, painful sound, something dredged up from memories, echoes of years past. It brings with it the stinging taste of salt water, and the air rushing up and into your lungs feels invasive and wrong. Like it was never supposed to be there in the first place. You stifle a gag; your fingers tremble, holding the calligraphy brush. Ichirin turns to you, concerned.

"Murasa, are you okay?"

You try to nod, but suddenly you can't breathe. Instead it comes as a frantic blinking of eyes, too-wide pupils for the early-afternoon light. Ichirin gets up from her knees, drops directly to your side.

You double over your low desk and vomit seawater all over the sutra. Ichirin screams.

 

* * *

 

You can't stop throwing up. Your stomach-- your lungs-- hold so much unexpected water, and it's dark and painfully salty as it comes bubbling up your throat, over and over. Byakuren holds up your chin for you, making sure you don't collapse forward. There are droplets on her face, but you're not sure if they are tears or seawater. Your body feels so heavy and weak, like your bones are made of fragile ceramics, too heavy for the skin you have. Ichirin's hand moves over your back in long, slow circles.

Byakuren is repeating sutras under her breath, between calls for more water and blankets and wood for the fire. You're shivering-- the flames before you should be warming you up, but you feel like you've frozen from the inside out, heavy and slow and immobile as an iceberg, floating stale in the Arctic Ocean. You slump forward, teeth clacking against each other, and-- as if the saltwater wasn't enough-- tears begin to drip from your tired eyes.

You can't even speak. Your body feels like it's drying up, curling into itself. Ichirin wraps her arms around your waist, leans so far into you that if you didn't know any better you'd think she was trying to become part of you. Her face presses into the nape of your neck, and leaves its own droplets of tears there, that run down their path to the base of your spine.

"Murasa," she whimpers, draped over you like a blanket, and you heave forward again, but nothing comes out. She clings to you from behind, rubs your back until your eyes close and the aching in your empty chest subsides, if only for a while.

 

* * *

 

You're laid up in bed for the next few weeks, body parched in the summer heat, even through the dark curtains over the screen doors. Ichirin has taken on the responsibility of watching over you. She sits, day by day, by your bedside, drawing. From where you are you can never see exactly what, but her hand on paper-- how it leaves light lines with the familiar sound of pencil scratching, quick and straight-- gives you at least half an idea.

Byakuren warned you not to get out of bed, and it's not like you can-- your material body has started to weigh you down, and something else is tugging at you, making you weaker by the day. But she also warned Ichirin not to get too close to you, in the state you're in, and that's why you're surprised when Ichirin steps down from her chair, crawls under the covers with you. She lays her hand on the side of your face.

"You're freezing, Murasa," she exclaims quietly, her eyes wide and wavering with tears. "What's going to happen to you...?"

"I don't... know," you finally manage to say. Your mouth hasn't been working the same way lately. "I might be... becoming a ghost again."

"But, you can't," Ichirin sighs. "Hijiri cut your ties to the ocean, remember? You can't just suddenly..."

"I don't know, okay," you say, a tone of hopelessness setting into your voice. "I don't know anything right now."

"I can't just let you--" Ichirin chokes on her sentence, and then hangs her head. The words go unfinished in the air. "Please," she says, against your shoulder, as she lays her head on your chest.

Since you died you've never had a heartbeat, but there were times you felt it again, especially around Ichirin-- when you lay side by side, when you touched her, when you kissed. But it's fading, back into oblivion, that last imitation of humanity you had. Ichirin. Ichirin. She doesn't want to see you go, not like this.

 

* * *

 

The waters of your past come back to swallow you up, little by little. At midnight you feel your body being pulled by some force that isn't yours, out to the harbor, your legs trembling, mind refusing. Ichirin is asleep in her chair-- part of you reaches back to grab her, to hold on to her, to make sure you keep yourself anchored, but you're too weak, and you don't remember ever closing your eyes; you find yourself at the dock when you open them again.

Your feet slip first into the water, then your ankles. It's so cold. The kind of cold that shoots arrows down your spine, the kind of overwhelming cold that stole the breath from your living lungs. You brace your hands unconsciously against the deck, and then ease your legs into the ocean that birthed you.

" _Murasa!_ "

The cry seems to come from far away-- there's a rumbling of footsteps behind you, that sound so much louder than they should. Then, warm hands, under your arms, yanking you up from the cold.

Ichirin. Her face is spotted with the afterimages of crying. The moon is full. Your body jolts; a joint inside you cracks painfully.

"Murasa," she repeats, wrapping you in her arms. You cling to her neck, and she lifts you easily; as you start to feel heavier, you realize, your form has gotten lighter. She takes you back inside, footsteps echoing on the wooden dock; she presses kisses to your forehead, your scalp, your nose, but never your lips, not yet your lips. Your body feels a little less cold.

 

* * *

 

One morning you wake up and find your hands around your own neck.

The chair by your futon is empty.

"Ichirin," you hear yourself pleading. "Ichirin,  _where_ \--"

Your own hands push harder on your neck; your voice cuts off, and so does your consciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

Voices from the other room start to wake you.

"--might be reverting back to how we found--"

"--then how are we supposed to help? If this is going to happen--"

"--I don't want that to be the only option--"

You turn over. The chair is still empty. The tone of the voices across from you start to escalate.

"We  _can't_  lose two in a row--"

"I'm not letting Murasa go! You can't stop me--"

"--Ichirin! Calm down! I never said I would--"

There's a crash, and then an agonized yell. The sound of a door slamming open, and then--

"...Ichirin?"

Her face comes into focus above you. Tears are dripping from her face. Her eyes are puffy and red, lips pressed together to keep them from trembling visibly.

"Murasa," she replies, weakly, her voice heavy with sobs. "I'm going with you. If you leave. I'm going with."

"No, you're not," you say, and turn away. "You don't even know what that entails."

"They said the ocean is drawing you back. They said you're turning back to what you were before..."

"I kinda guessed the same myself," you admit, pushing your face into the pillow. You can't look Ichirin in the eye anymore.

"I'm not letting you go alone," she says, decisively, through tears.

"Yes you are."

"No, Minamitsu! No," she cries, and the sudden use of your given name catches you off guard. "If I can't keep you from suffering, then I won't let you suffer alone."

You start to sit up, anger flaring. "You don't even know what that means! I never want you to experience what I did--"

"It's all I can do now--"

"You idiot, Ichirin," you shout, grabbing her wrists. "You know I have to  _kill_  you for that to work!"

The room goes silent, after that. Ichirin wipes her eyes with her sleeve, and then brings her hands to meet yours. She holds onto you, fingers interlacing, one by one.

"Then, please kill me," she whispers, looking straight into you.

"You  _know_  I can't do that."

"You can."

"I can't do that to you. You deserve to be alive."

" _Minamitsu_ ," she says, warningly.

"I should have been wiped from existence. Hijiri should have killed me. You know perfectly well that was supposed to be my fate."

"Minamitsu,  _stop._ "

"I need to go back. I need to go back and wait for someone to destroy me for good. It's all I can do."

"Stop-- Minamitsu,  _no_ , I won't let you say those kinds of things--"

"Listen," you yell, and Ichirin recoils, "no one wants to suffer like I did. No matter what. No one deserves that kind of fate, no one but me. So..."

"Minamitsu Murasa," she says, still shaky but more deliberate than ever. Something inside you falls apart, something immaterial. You throw your arms around her neck, bury your face in her hood. "I told you I would never let you go alone."

 

* * *

 

At approximately 2:15 AM two days later, the water pulls you there, harder than ever. You stand up, weakly, rest your hand on Ichirin's shoulder.

"Murasa, are you going?" she asks, her voice so small, wavering.

"Yeah, it's about time."

"Then, I'm coming with you."

You don't answer right away-- you just grip her hand, walk with her as the forces around you push your body forward. She keeps your pace, unafraid, uncompromising. Her hand has stopped trembling, and so has her voice.

She looks up, points to the star straight on the horizon. "That's the North Star, isn't it?"

"No," you answer, a smile on the corner of your mouth. "The North Star isn't as bright. It's-- here, follow that in a diagonal line-- right there," you keep her arm steady. She's pointing right to it. "Some things you can't assume just 'cause they're the brightest."

She laughs sadly, at that. You walk to the dock, sit on the edge, watch the moon reflect off the troubled waters.

"I have to give you the chance to back out on this."

"No."

"I'll wait for as long as you need."

"No, I told you already, I'm going with you!" Ichirin's voice rises slightly, and then she sighs and looks down again, into the spots of light, shimmering at the water's edge. "I'm going with you. I already decided."

You say nothing to that, but start to slide your legs into the water, until your feet touch the bottom. It's only thigh-high here, but the chill moves up your skin-- you'll need to readjust to this pretty soon, you think. Her hand is still in yours; you watch as she steps into the water next to you, and her face goes strained from the cold.

"Right," you say, more of a question than an affirmation. "Can you come further out with me?"

She nods, lets you lead her to where the waves start to break. Your feet aren't touching the ground, and hers barely are, but she looks at you like she doesn't see the eerie glow rise around your body, like you're the same as you've always been.

"What should I do with my hood?"

"It'd be easier to take off your clothes, really," you say, looking down. Even now, you can't help blushing-- Ichirin doesn't mind, though, and moves in closer to you as she shrugs her hood off and then lets you push down the shoulders of her dress.

It billows in the water, as Ichirin steps out of it, and then floats down, weighed with all the saltwater of your ocean. Slowly, she unravels her sarashi, letting it drift on the surface, and suddenly she's in front of you, naked, droplets of water sliding down her shoulders, catching moonlight.

You want to kiss her. You want to carry her out of the ocean, let her return to where she belongs. But her feet are planted in the sand below, and she's looking straight into your eyes, her will unwavering, body unprotected and pure as her silhouette on the water.

"Ichirin..."

Your voice trails off. She looks at you with that smile, her soft and sad turning of the mouth, a single gentle ray of light peeking out from behind the clouds. For some reason, you feel so _achingly_ human.

"Minamitsu."

There are two ways to do this-- one more suited for ship ghosts, another meant for sirens. But when they made the rules for ocean youkai, you think, they probably never considered the idea that a ship ghost might ever want to turn their lover. And you don't-- you  _don't_  want to turn her, you want her to live on land where she belongs, in the bright sun of being-- but she does. Ichirin _does_.

"Take a deep breath."

Her eyes closed, shoulders glistening with rivulets of seawater, she does. Ichirin.  _Ichirin._  Your heartbeat returns, if only in your mind. It throbs her name, in thorough, steady intervals. 

_Ichirin. Ichirin._

"Come under the water with me," you whisper, tugging gently on her hand. "Close your eyes."

She nods, slips under the surface. Ichirin, your heartbeat memory reminds you. Ichirin, _Ichirin, Ichirin._

Under the water you feel your vision clearing. You see in contrast, sharp monochromatic blue. It makes you miss the deeps. 

(You'll be going back soon.)

 

 

You take Ichirin's face in your hands, and you kiss her.

 

 

You kiss her until every drop of her breath fades from her lungs. Her life shines brighter than anything you've ever seen, shocks you as it goes down through your spine. She floats, limp in your arms, and you take in a long breath of seawater and join your lips to hers again.

_(Ichirin.)_

 

 

Her eyes open.

 

"Minamitsu," she whispers, her hand on your cheek. You can't tell her tears from the ocean anymore, and her eyes have gained a yellow glow, but she's smiling. She's  _smiling,_ whispers of spirits in the water around her, dancing like fireflies. 

"It's... just like flying."


End file.
